


Book Lovers

by Emyrldlady



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:42:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emyrldlady/pseuds/Emyrldlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony throws a party, Clint flirts, and there are books. </p>
<p>My first Avenger's fic. Be gentle please.</p>
<p>Thanks for the beta goes to Amazonx</p>
            </blockquote>





	Book Lovers

Clint hated parties. Well, that's not really true. Despite never having stepped inside a college classroom, he'd been a frat house favorite, keggers, experimenting co-eds and the fact that he never lost at beer pong had been a fun time. However, this was not that kind of party. This was a Tony Stark kind of party. And not the fun drunk Tony Stark either. This was the 'I'm on my best behavior because Pepper Potts now has my balls in her purse' Tony Stark party.

Boring. Boring and he had to wear a suit.

But at least the booze was top shelf. Clint set his empty tumbler on the bar and nodded his head to the bartender for a refill. Clint didn't have fancy tastes, but even he could appreciate the pricey Ladybank Single Malt Whiskey being served.

"Good Lord, stop that right now." A feminine voice behind Clint startled the bartender, stopping him from pouring the whiskey. 

Clint turned towards the voice but as she was standing directly behind him he couldn't see well. "Pardon me but, as you're not one of the three people on the planet I listen to. I don't think you've got the authority to cut off my supply to this very fine numbing agent."

"If all you want is a numbing agent, drink gin. Don't desecrate good whiskey by pouring it over ice." She glared at the bartender from behind Clint's head, who quietly switched Clint's glass for one without ice, shrugging at Clint's quizzing look. "She's right."

The woman stood next to Clint; he could smell her perfume, something silky and woodsy, like the whiskey. The bartender waited politely as she scanned the shelves for what she was looking for. "You wouldn't happen to have a bottle of McCallan 39' hiding back there, would you love?" She'd placed her hand over the bartender's and her voice softened from earlier, a slight lilt, but Clint couldn't quite place it. 

The bartender's eyes dilated and he blushed. Clint was impressed. Bartenders who worked parties for Tony Stark rarely blushed. 

"I'm sorry, miss. I don't believe that was ordered for the party. The best we've got on this floor is the Ladybank." The bartender truly looked disappointed that he couldn't provide a ten-thousand-dollar a bottle of whiskey for her.

She sighed, “Ah well. If that's the best you've got." She nodded her head and the bartender poured two fingers of the amber drink.

After a small smile dismissed the bartender, she turned towards Clint, giving him his first good look at her. He leaned sideways against the bar and was rather blatant in his perusal. 

Dark hair in a loose knot on her head held in place with jeweled combs. Pale skin, perfectly arched brows, if brows were your thing. She had curves in all the right places and that definitely was his thing. Her dress looked vintage, like something out of a movie, Nat would know. It hugged her body close and the deep blue color set off her eyes. The shoes, wow, talk about bling, he was pretty sure Pepper would be drooling over the crystals and red soles. Other than the combs, she wore no jewelry, which he found out of place in this atmosphere. Didn't all the bored socialites vie with one another over these things?

"You don't seem the literary type," she said, bringing Clint's attention up. Her free hand indicated the room. Pepper's gala event this time was for literacy. It featured Tony's rare book collection. All around the room there were museum quality kiosks holding some of the world's rarest writings. A page from the Gutenberg Bible, one of the original Shakespeare's Folios, and of course, the Kama Sutra. Clint made sure to check that one out. He wouldn't put it past Tony to add liner notes.

Clint smiled, charming and just a bit dangerously, "I read."

She smiled back, took a sip of her drink and walked away.

***

Clint frowned. She was walking away. That's not the way the game is played. He was all dressed up and no one to get his flirt on with. He glanced over at Coulson who was being so attentive to Pepper you'd think Tony would be pissed. 

Clint eyed the room; there were about a hundred and fifty people and at least thirty of them were security of some form or another. Towards the left, Tony was trying to embarrass Steve by loudly explaining the illustrations from the Kama Sutra. Bruce, looking a little lost in his tweed jacket and elbow patches, was leaning against a wall praying no one would talk to him. Nat was away on a mission and Thor hadn't returned yet from Asgard thankfully, because if this wasn't Clint's kind of party, it really wasn't Thor's.

Clint's eyes assessed the room out of habit looking for trouble. His eyes fell on the brunette and he smirked. She'd been superficially looking at the books on display, a pair of diamond encrusted reading glasses in her hand. She paused at the Poe display, read the placard and glanced at the book. She then looked up at Clint as if she felt his eyes on her and smiled at him, coy but at the same time confident. She turned from him again and walked out on the wide terrace making it more obvious now what the rules of this game were. Clint grinned.

Behind him Clint heard the clink of glasses and turned. The same bartender as before set down two glasses with a darker amber liquid than he'd been drinking. Clint raised an eyebrow. "Please tell Ms. Dwyn that while I couldn't get her the McCallan 39', I was however able to liberate a few glasses of the McCallan 47' from a reserve stock." 

"Ms. Dwyn?" Clint replied, his eyes going towards the terrace. "You always find out their names? Is she somebody I should know?"

The bartender smirked at Clint, "Ms. Bonnie Amelia Dwyn. Not a socialite. More of a collector of rare things. I've seen her at a few of the higher end art gallery and museum functions. It's my job to remember and when they look like that, its pretty easy." He eyed the discreet Bacarat crystal bowl on the bar. "It also doesn't hurt when she tips in hundred dollar bills." 

Clint laughed and picked up the two glasses. He sniffed one, it had a richer scent than what he'd been drinking, much more smoky. "Ten thousand a bottle?"

"Nah, that's the cheap stuff. Only $6700.00"

"Cheap? Then what the hell was I drinking?"

"Peasant water. Fit only for guys in rented tuxes."

Clint glared at the guy. A patented Hawkeye, I can kill you with a feather and scotch tape, stare. The bartender just laughed and turned to another guest.

Clint looked out on the terrace. She was standing alone, watching him. She raised a brow and he walked out towards her with both glasses. 

"For you, Ms. Dwyn." Clint handed her one of the glasses. 

Accepting the glass Bonnie sniffed its contents delicately and took a sip. "Ahh," she smiled, "The 47'. Tell Jason he did well."

"Jason?"

"The bartender, Mr. Barton. For a man who spent the last two hours holding up his side of the bar, its only polite to learn the barman's name."

"And mine it seems," Clint said. "I don't recall introducing myself."

"Nor me to you, and yet here we are. Sharing whiskey like old friends." She smiled and small creases appeared at her eyes. A genuine smile. "Call me Bonnie."

"Clint, please." He held out his hand for hers and did his best gallant move as he slowly kissed the back of her hand while keeping eye contact the whole while.

 

"Clint," she said softly, taking her hand back but not moving away. "Tell me, how is the famous Avenger, Hawkeye, enjoying the party."

"He was bored, till someone started tutoring him about whiskey." Clint grinned and stepped closer. "What other lessons have you for me?"

Bonnie quirked her lips invitingly, "I've quite a few. What did you want to learn?" she whispered, the words wafting towards him along with the whiskey and her perfume. Intoxicating.

"From you? Quite a bit." Clint flirted, "Or nothing at all, if you prefer it that way."

"Well, a girl’s got to have a little mystery about her." Bonnie replied. 

Clint nodded, his fingers toyed with one of her curls that had loosened in the wind. "Mystery is good. Honesty is better. Do you want some honesty, Bonnie?" 

Bonnie wet her lips and raised her eyes to his. "It depends…"

"On what?"

"On if your honesty includes a Mrs. Barton"

Clint chuckled, "No, definitely no Mrs."

"Alright, then let me have your... honesty." She said it as half curse and half laugh.

"You. Bonnie Amelia Dwyn, are a fake," Clint whispered in her ear, his lips hot and moist on the shell.

Bonnie shivered, she'd blame the night air. "Fake?"

Clint touched her bare shoulder as he held her gaze. "Your jewels are paste, your dress looks vintage couture, but the stitching is machine made so it's a copy, your shoes are.."

"My shoes are real!" she snapped, eyes on fire.

He smiled. "Your shoes are real." 

"So?" 

"Nothing. You asked for honesty. I didn't say it would be mine." Clint drained the last of his drink and put it down on one of the low tables.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Clint shrugged. "Nothing. Doesn't matter to me if you want to scam the rich. I'm not one of them."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Please, you're an Avenger."

"In a rented tux. We're both a little fake. But you need to watch your tell."

"Tell?"

Clint smiled and leaned in, his lips brushing her cheek, "The bartender. Rich people don't tip."

"Damn," Bonnie growled.

Clint shoved his hands in his pockets and twirled on his heel. "Happy hunting." he called over his shoulder.

 

***

 

A couple of hours later and just the cleaning staff, and the Avengers were left. Clint was sprawled on one of the chaise lounges on the same terrace he'd spoken to Bonnie on. 

Steve and Bruce were chowing down on what was left of the buffet. Those two would never let food go bad. Depression era kid and a survivalist. If you wanted seconds, you needed to be as fast as Clint. Which is why Clint already had his doggy bag packed and in his room five floors up.

Tony wandered in, an open bottle of something expensive in his hand. 

"Pepper gone?" Bruce asked.

"Yep, good ol' Agent Agent took her to the airport. I'm such a good boyfriend letting her have a gay husband like that. "

"Agent Coulson is gay?" Steve sounded perplexed. "Not that... not that anything's wrong with that," Steve stammered. "I just thought he had a girlfriend, a cellist? Didn't Pepper say he had a girlfriend?" He looked to Bruce for confirmation or help.

"You don't always have to play for one team or the other," Bruce supplied.

Tony smirked, "Oh, he's got a thing for someone with a bow all right."

Clint languidly stood up and stretched. "Shut it, Stark. You're just scared he's gonna taze you."

"Hey! He promised not to tell anyone about that!" Tony yelped.

Clint smirked. "Nat was there. She didn't promise anyone."

"Shit."

"So, now that we're off Coulson's sex life, what are you doing for security on this level?" Clint eyed the room. "These books are pretty pricy. When do they go back to the museum exhibit?"

"They get picked up tomorrow morning at eight. There's no roof access. JARVIS has that covered, plus the next eight floors down," Tony began, "Extra security guards, heat sensors, some sort of laser web that only the Widow could tumble through. That good enough for ya?"

Clint shrugged and headed towards the elevator to his floor. As he passed the Poe display, he noticed a pair of glasses resting along its side, as if left by accident and smiled to himself.

"Don't bother me if rich guys get robbed."

"Wiseass."

"You should know." Clint saluted Tony as the elevator doors shut. He needed to change out of this monkey suit and get his work gear on. Seems like it was going to be a fun night after all.


End file.
